


Love You So Hard

by tryslora



Series: Mating Games Round 2 [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: mating_games, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Scent Marking, True Alpha Scott, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is gonna be the best fake boyfriend ever, and Scott's not sure he'll survive the experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You So Hard

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third, and last, rejected piece from the second challenge (wolf kinks) at round 2 of mating games. This one just didn't work in the short form and needed a few more words (like I added 300 just now while editing) to make it make more sense. And more angsty. As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.
> 
> WARNING: the ending is as it is, and you can view the hints in the story however you wish to decide if it's happy or sad, okay?
> 
> ETA: Adding this to a series. Y'all win. :)

“Wait.”

Scott stops when Stiles catches his arm, pulling him back into the shadows at the end of the hallway. “What?”

Stiles leans in to rub their cheeks together and all Scott can think is how it has to hurt with the scruff Scott wears now to look older. No one respects an eighteen year old true alpha on first glance when he looks like a puppy. Scott inhales to speak and tastes their scents mixing, even stronger when Stiles licks a path from Scott’s collarbone to the spot behind his ear, then nuzzles in and nips him there. Scott exhales and wonders if he’ll be able to breathe again.

“Better,” Stiles murmurs, smirking against his throat. “If we’re going to do this, we need to do it right. I should’ve made you wear my shirt.”

Scott bites his lip, smiling slowly as he opens one of the buttons of his formal shirt to show the t-shirt underneath. “I thought of that and borrowed one already.” It’s driving him mad to have Stiles’s scent all over his skin. He doesn’t know how he’ll make it through the day. The pretense is _necessary_ but it’s going to push him down the path of insanity.

The worst part is that Stiles doesn’t even seem to be affected.

“Buddy, you are one brilliant true alpha. They won’t know what hit them.” Stiles grins, then nuzzles Scott’s neck one more time, nipping with blunt teeth and sucking a bruise that Scott knows will heal before they even make it into the main room of the conference.

Scott thinks Stiles is right—no one is going to expect this—but he’s not sure if it’s because of himself or because they are about to meet the true alpha of the McCall pack _and_ his emissary. He’s pretty sure Stiles is going to roll right over these people and they’ll never see it coming.

#

They spend most of the meet & greet hand in hand, Stiles’s thumb sliding along Scott’s pulse. Every once in a while, Stiles touches the back of Scott’s neck, lets his fingers drift along his throat, showing how much his alpha trusts this human. And Scott responds as he has to, by twisting into Stiles’s personal space and closing his teeth over his pulse, holding for a long moment until Stiles whines softly.

After an hour, he barely tastes the water he drinks, his senses full of Stiles instead. He breathes him in constantly, and is loathe to exhale him away.

“Dude, I need to go talk—” Stiles unlinks their fingers, gesturing somewhere across the room.

“Yeah, go. Go.” Scott watches him walk away, feels the pull of something between them when he goes. Stiles ends up all the way on the other side of the room and it seems too far to Scott, even though he knows he’d be at his side in an instant if there were trouble. His nostrils flare, helping him identify the woman Stiles is talking to, the emissary of a pack out of Seattle. He tries to settle down and not give in to the urge to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“You have a strong bond with your partner.”

Scott sucks in a breath, putting on a smile when he turns to greet the alpha from somewhere in the middle of Michigan. “Yeah, we’ve been together since we were kids.” A flush rises, warming his cheeks. “I mean, _friends_ since then. Together since…” His voice trails off, unwilling to outright lie.

The other alpha laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s obvious to anyone here that you are new to each other in that respect. No one will try to steal him from you, young McCall.”

Scott relaxes to hear it, tasting the truth of those words. That is what he and Stiles had been worried about, because the McCall pack has a reputation, and their young emissary is considered one of the best. “He’s part of me,” he admits, because the words are true and in this place, under this pretense, he can say them all he wants.

#

When they make it back to the room, Stiles is bouncing, excited at the contacts made and how well their plan worked. “One day down, three to go, Scotty, and we are on _fire_.” He grabs Scott’s hands, swinging him around the room and Scott’s mind whirl, trying to keep up with Stiles’s frenetic energy. “What do we need to do to make it better?” Stiles muses. “We need to cement this, make sure there is no way they can fail to believe us. Everyone thinks we’re newlyweds, right? Which means we can’t keep our hands off of each other. So we should totally fuck.”

Scott blinks, because that is above and beyond, and _oh fuck_ he wants it so damned much. But he can’t ask that of Stiles, not under this pretense. Not when he’s _lying_ to him. “Or jerk off,” he suggests, and wonders if that’s a flash of disappointment in Stiles’s eyes, gone before Scott can really tell what he’s thinking.

“Sure, yeah. That’ll work.” Stiles agrees.

They end up naked, tumbled in a tangle on the bed, thrusting against each other in a slide of lube and the tense grip of Scott’s hand holding their dicks together. He nuzzles into Stiles’s shoulder, nipping and sucking bruises where he knows they’ll be seen, marking him clearly as _property of pack McCall_. Stiles whines, digging blunt fingernails into Scott’s shoulders, and Scott thrusts up against him, inhaling the way their musk combines, shifts, changes when it’s both of them together. Entwined as if they’ve somehow become one person after all these years, and it feels so fucking right.

“Oh fuck, Scott, I’m going to…” Stiles ends with a groan, coming in a burst of wet heat over Scott’s hand. He pauses, hands on either side of Scott’s shoulders and meeting his eyes, then slides down his body, taking Scott’s still hard length into his mouth.

It’s impossibly good, like a dream Scott never expected, and he can’t help the way he thrusts up, emptying himself almost immediately while Stiles swallows. Some dribbles out of his mouth, and Stiles kisses a path back up, leaving traces of both of them all over Scott’s body. No matter how much they wash in the morning, they will still smell like sex and each other, and Scott loves it more than he can say.

Stiles kisses him wetly. “No one will doubt us,” he says, flopping onto Scott and letting him carry his weight.

“It’s the perfect ruse,” Scott murmurs, fingers drifting over his back.

And it _is_ the perfect ruse, the best story, and everyone there believes it.

Everyone except Stiles.

Scott kisses his forehead and tries not to say the words that want to come out. He still has three more days before they go back to Beacon Hills and slip back into a life of friends, and he wants to make the most of all of it, until all he has left is the memory of their scent.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
